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“It’s just not fair.”
“Au contraire.” Jazz smiled, turning one way and then the other to admire herself in the full-length mirror. The dress looked every bit as good as she’d hoped it would ‒ and a good thing too, after how long she’d taken picking it out! Soft silk folds clung to her curves and swirled around her feet, sparkling with crystal accents in just the right places to accentuate her assets. It was worth every single cent of the exorbitant price she’d paid, and it made her feel like a million dollars. “My big day means I get things my way, doesn’t it?”
“Doesn’t mean you have to outshine us all this much,” Ricochet huffed, nowhere near as put out as she was pretending to be. Despite the way he still occasionally creeped her out, she was genuinely happy for her twin to finally be tying the knot with Prowl. “You’re a disgustingly beautiful bride.”
“Of course I am.” Modesty? What was that? Jazz grinned at her reflection, tilting her head to catch the light on the jewels in her hair. The veil wasn’t attached yet, but the comb for it was in place on the side of her head, sweeping her dark hair up and out of her eyes to frame her immaculately made up face. “Next piece,” she demanded, and Ricochet handed over the matching diamond and pearl earrings with a chuckle.
“A beautiful bridezilla.”
“Hmph!” Bridezilla, indeed! Rico and the other girls had gotten off light. There would be no embarrassingly ugly bridesmaid photos in the tabloids, though there was no getting around the fact that there would be photos. While they no longer worked together professionally ‒ Prowl had hooked the band up with a reputable manager who had in turn found them a choreographer who could devote her full time to them in a way that Prowl couldn’t ‒ they were still a power couple in the industry. No amount of discretion could keep a celebrity wedding a total secret, as trying and failing to hide their engagement had proved. Jazz’s adoring fans hadn’t missed the ring on her finger for long, and it had ultimately been easier to just tell the press the truth rather than leave them to their wild speculations.
Some of their guesses had been pretty funny in hindsight, but Jazz had gotten so worked up over them at the time that Prowl had temporarily banned her from social media so she wouldn’t say something she’d regret in a fit of pique. Then he’d found out her bandmates had been encouraging the media storm behind her back, and had very nearly done something he would have regretted. The little trolls. They were lucky to be alive, let alone still in the bridal party.
And speaking of the wedding‒
“Jazz?” Mirage’s voice floated into the room. “Are you‒ oh.”
‒there was the final call. Flattered by the soft gasp, Jazz grinned at her friend and fellow fashionista over her lace-capped shoulder. “You like?”
“Hmm. Well. It’s not what I would have chosen,” Mirage said, recovering her usual composure, “but you make it work.”
Jazz snorted. “Damn right I do.” Still. She knew Prowl thought she was beautiful no matter what she wore (or didn’t), but today was special. Today was their wedding day, and there was a nervous flutter of butterflies in her stomach as she smoothed out the fabric of her dress. “The house ready?”
“Ready and waiting,” Mirage confirmed. “What about you?”
“Almost,” Ricochet said, snagging the gem-studded veil and swiftly pinning it in place. The short blusher only just fell to Jazz’s chin and didn’t do much to actually hide her face, but it was the symbolism that really counted. “Makeup, dress, veil. What are we forgetting?”
“Underwear?” Mirage suggested delicately.
“That’s for me to know and Prowl to find out,” Jazz said with a completely indelicate purr. “Anyway it’s accounted for. Oh!” Her hand went to her bare throat. “My necklace!”
Ricochet rifled through the detritus on the vanity until she found it. “Allow me,” she said, and stepped around behind Jazz to fasten the clasp. “Perfect.”
One last look in the mirror, and Jazz agreed. “Alright. It’s showtime.”
They didn’t have far to go. In the interest of keeping things small, quiet, and relatively private, Prowl and Jazz had agreed to book the penthouse of one of the city’s luxury towers for the event. Tracks signalled those gathered for the ceremony in the main room when she spotted Jazz from her post at the door, then joined her fellow bridesmaids as the music started.
Standing at the altar, Prowl’s eyes came up at the first note. How was it that the last few hours had felt like an eternity, when eternity itself had flown by until now? But at last, the waiting was over; at last, he and Jazz were taking the first step toward their forever. Only the first step ‒ they’d discussed the matter at length, and while Jazz insisted she was ready, willing, and eager to be turned, Prowl wasn’t willing to put too much on her at once. The transition would not be an easy one, and he wanted (and knew she wanted) to be able to fully enjoy their honeymoon without having to make concessions for the adjustment period. Better to optimize the experiences in turn and give each its proper due. After all, he was hardly worried about her getting cold feet after how enthusiastically she’d accepted his proposal.
That had been a beautiful day too, though a very different setting. It was amazing, now, to think about how nervous he’d been bringing her to his hometown. It was a small village, nothing like the big cities Jazz was used to, but she’d pleasantly surprised him by taking to it immediately. She’d even been the first one to suggest spending their honeymoon there, which Prowl was in full support of. With the lovely beachsides, the quaint shops and the cozy restaurants, it was the perfect place to escape from the world and focus solely on each other, even with his family in close proximity.
That had been the other reason for bringing her to his hometown: so that his family could meet her. Given what Prowl wanted for their relationship, namely, to take her to wife forever, getting their approval was crucial. It was about more than just making sure the most important people in his life got along; he needed Shockwave in order to turn her. If he or Soundwave took a disliking to Jazz, or she to them, then that dream would be impossible to realize.
Again, luckily, it turned out that he’d been worried for nothing. Soundwave and Shockwave had been every bit as critical and discerning as he’d expected, but Jazz had completely won them over, answering all their questions and allaying their concerns. She hadn’t been scared off by the full story of how they’d all been turned, either, and when she stepped out for a moment, they’d given him their blessing.
That evening, Prowl had taken her out to dinner at one of his favorite little eating nooks and quietly proposed. Jazz had grinned so wide she couldn’t get a word out beyond a high-pitched “Yes!” and had resorted to kissing him over the small, candlelit table for several minutes before telling him, “I’ve been hoping you were going to do that since you invited me on this trip.”
Prowl glanced over to where Shockwave and Soundwave were standing now. Their presence reassured him that he hadn’t imagined their promise to welcome Jazz into the fold when the time came.
Now though… Now was the time for their mortal wedding. Looking down the short aisle formed by those close friends and colleagues they had invited and the members of his immortal family, Prowl held his breath as the bridesmaids walked one by one to their places for the first glimpse of his bride.
The vision of beauty that met his eyes as she came into view stopped his breath entirely.
Awe. Wonder. The look on Prowl’s face was so full of love and adoration that Jazz couldn’t help pausing just long enough to pose for him. That was the reaction she’d hoped for and then some. It didn’t hurt that he was magnificent himself. The red accents and touches of gold in his ensemble really set off the stark black and white of his suit, especially the crimson tie running down his chest. It matched the blood-red amaranthus blooms trailing beneath the roses in her bouquet.
Let the tabloids print their pictures; together, they made a picture for the ages.
Step by step, in perfect sync with the music like the dancer she was, Jazz made her way slowly down the aisle. Ricochet had offered to escort her, but Jazz had wanted her at the front with Prowl where she could see them both. Her twin had sworn she wouldn’t cry, and a look confirmed she was determined to keep to that, but the glistening in her eyes belied her emotions. Jazz smiled encouragingly at her before turning to Prowl. God, he was gorgeous! Like an alabaster statue, a cool, chiseled exterior over a core of passion. It was there in his eyes, for once not covered by his trademark shades, and Jazz felt herself warming with the heat in that gaze.
Prowl could hear her body responding, quickening as she approached. She was achingly warm, vibrant, and beautiful. It made him hungry in so many ways. Getting through the wedding was going to be a true test of his control.
In fact, both of them were too distracted to pay a great deal of attention to the ceremony as it got underway. They were aware of the officiating priest reading out the approved script, enough to chime in where they were supposed to, but the ecstatic beat of Jazz’s heart echoing in their ears drove everything else from their minds. She was practically vibrating where she stood when Prowl lifted back her veil, miraculously steady fingers brushing her cheeks in the process, and it was all Jazz could do to wait for Ricochet to hand them the rings instead of just grabbing them herself so they could get to the good part.
Prowl never once took his eyes from hers throughout the exchange of rings, vows, and I dos. He could see how eager she was, taste it, even, and when the priest finally told him he could kiss his bride he was totally unsurprised when she moved first. Unerring fingers wrapped around his tie in a way he was all too familiar with and pulled. Hard. Prowl went along with it, indulgent smile melting into their first married kiss.
The applause was a mix of cultured clapping and raucous cheering.
Excitement and alcohol saw to a lively reception afterward, despite the small number of guests. Nearly everyone there was an aficionado of music, dance, or both, and there was hardly a moment when the dance floor wasn’t in use after Prowl and Jazz’s first dance: a number he’d choreographed personally for the occasion that they performed to absolute perfection.
“Are you suuuure I can’t post this online?” Tracks asked during a breather as she and Jazz were refreshing their drinks. She’d recorded their whole dance, because of course she had, but Jazz shook her head.
“Not until we’ve left on our honeymoon,” she said firmly.
“Aww.”
“Don’t worry,” Ricochet said, interrupting Tracks’ pout with an arm over her shoulder. “I’ll make sure she waits an appropriate amount of time so your inbox doesn’t blow up before you’re out of range. Now get back out there and dance with that husband of yours!”
Husband. Jazz loved the way that sounded.
There was one more very important thing they needed to do to make it official though, and Jazz had no intention of putting it off. As soon as it wasn’t impolite to do so, Jazz thanked everyone for coming, bid them to keep enjoying themselves as long as they wanted, and dragged Prowl away from the party.
“So impatient,” he murmured through a knowing smile.
“Shut up and kiss me,” Jazz demanded before once again kissing him first.
Prowl groaned, kissing back with a fervor to match hers. They hadn’t made it all the way to their private section of the penthouse, but if she was done holding back, so was he. His hands went to her waist so he could pick her up and turn to press her against the wall, lifting her progressively higher as he kissed down her neck and into her cleavage.
“Oh! Prowl!”
There was a teasing note of scolding in her voice, but the way she was pressing her breasts forward, encouraging his attentions, made Prowl smirk into the silk of her dress. “You,” he said huskily, brushing against a hidden nipple with the edge of a fang in a way that had her gasping beautifully, “are overdressed, my dear.”
Was she ever! Nice as the fabric felt on her skin, Prowl’s hands, tongue and teeth would feel so much better. “Maybe you should do something about that,” Jazz said hopefully, taking advantage of her elevated position to kick off a shoe and draw her foot up the inside of Prowl’s thigh. She toyed with his zipper, outlining the growing bulge in his pants with her toe. “And about your own state of overdress.”
Prowl growled and she giggled as he buried his face in her chest in retaliation. Then, in one carefully coordinated move, he spun and scooped her up into his arms. Jazz’s arms automatically went around his neck, and he smiled down at his beautiful bride. “Allow me to first carry you across the threshold,” he said, resuming the journey to their suite, “then see to finding you some more appropriate attire for your wedding night.”
“Our wedding night,” Jazz purred, kissing the shell of his ear. “And trust me, I’m all about appropriate attire.”
It wasn’t really much of a threshold. As with the veil, it was more about the symbolism of the ritual than anything else, but that was enough to make the simple act of walking through a doorway significant. Prowl couldn’t help tightening his arms possessively, overcome with emotion.
Jazz relaxed into the embrace for a moment, revelling in the feelings of safety and security and love. Then her libido reasserted itself, and she began kissing along Prowl’s jawline and nipping at his neck. “I thought you were going to claim me.”
“In every way possible,” Prowl promised. How she tested him! He bowed his head to the column of her neck, breathing in the scent of her. His lips parted, baring eager fangs, but he did not bite. Not yet. First, “Let us get you out of that dress.”
Please! “About time,” Jazz gasped.
Still exercising a remarkable amount of restraint, Prowl brought her over to their bed and laid her down reverently among the sheets. The white of her dress and the bronze of her skin glowed against the rich purple, and the jewels she wore sparkled in the soft light. Such a precious treasure, and all, all his.
Just before Jazz could get impatient ‒ she loved the way he looked at her like she was a work of art, but she wanted to be interactive art right now! ‒ Prowl knelt and took her foot in his hands and slowly slipped her remaining shoe off. From there his fingers began tracing their way up her legs, hitching up her dress inch by inch over her stockings. He paused at her knees, and Jazz flicked her foot against his chest when he kissed one. “Reflex,” she lied at his grin.
“I am sure,” Prowl said, and kissed her other knee. She “kicked” him again and he chuckled before moving up her thighs until he reached her garters. A pair of delicate straps continued under her dress to a garter belt he was sure matched the beautiful lacy bands. There was an extra, even more intricate band of lace on her left leg, trimmed with diamonds around a single, central sapphire.
“Something blue,” Jazz explained, breath hitching as Prowl bent to it and, conscious of his fangs, gently grabbed it with his teeth and drew it down her leg.
He set it aside carefully out of the way when it was free of her foot. “Very fitting,” he said, then took her hands and pulled her to the edge of the bed so she was no longer laying on her dress. “I see you meant what you said about appropriate attire.”
“You haven’t seen the half of it.” Jazz stole a quick kiss before he moved around behind her. She felt his fingers undoing the fastenings on her dress, and raised her arms helpfully when he finished so he could lift the whole thing up and away. Left with only her lingerie and her jewelry, she stood and turned to face Prowl. He’d gotten as far as laying the dress beside the sapphire garter and was now just staring at her with rapt attention. “What do you think?” she asked, showing off with a slow spin. “How do I look?”
“Incredible.” He’d been right about the garter belt, which clung to her waist just below her navel. The straps attached to her stockings crossed over the complimenting band of a pair of panties he could tell were already slightly damp, and that would have claimed his focus if it weren’t for the way the bra that completed the ensemble perfectly cupped and framed her breasts.
Jazz wasn’t the least bit surprised when he reached for her chest first. “Your priorities are as predictable as ever I see,” she said, not at all sorry to have his hands back on her. There was just one problem. “I have priorities too though. Can you guess what they are?”
“My clothes not being on my body?” Prowl guessed, and laughed when she used his tie again to haul him in for a kiss. “Shall I take that to mean I am correct?”
“Damn right.” Rather than letting go of his tie this time, Jazz undid the knot and slipped it free of his collar, tossing the scarlet ribbon over her shoulder before attacking the buttons on his shirt. Prowl obligingly shrugged his jacket off while she worked, but couldn’t refrain from fondling her breasts again through the lace covering them instead of helping further. “Don’t even think about it,” Jazz said when she felt a hand creeping around her side. “I’m not taking anything else off until you are properly naked.”
“But you would not be the one taking anything off,” Prowl countered, nonetheless bringing his wayward hand back around front. Jazz snatched it and undid the buttons at his cuffs, considerably more careful about where she set his cufflinks than she’d been with his tie.
“I’m taking this off,” she said, and proceeded to slide his now-unbuttoned shirt open and down his arms. As his skin was exposed to the air, she was the one who shivered. Long, lean muscles flexed in his arms and shoulders, and Jazz licked her lips in anticipation. “Lose the shoes,” she demanded.
“As my lady commands.” Prowl kept his eyes fixed on hers as he slid one, then the other, shoe off and out of the way. It brought them ever so slightly closer together in height, though he still had a head on her easily as long as she wasn’t in heels. “Better?”
“Much.”
A lesser man would have overbalanced and fallen back on the bed as Jazz bypassed tiptoeing and instead leapt onto him to kiss him. Prowl just caught her, one arm coming up to support her while the other reached back as he lowered them onto the bed in a much more controlled manner. Part of that was his natural strength, but part of it was magic, and Jazz smiled at the familiar floating sensation.
“Love when you do that,” she said, lingering over one more kiss before scooting back on the bed so she could get rid of Prowl’s pants. “These have to be getting uncomfortable.”
The way Prowl groaned when she freed him was all the confirmation she needed.
Inspired, Jazz continued stroking him, encouraging him the rest of the way to full hardness. She let go just long enough to finish divesting him of pants, underwear, and socks, and then‒
“Jazz!”
“Hmm?” she hummed innocently, sucking lightly on the head of his cock.
“I thought,” he gasped out around his pleasure, “that you wanted me to claim you?”
“Do,” Jazz said, backing off to lick her way up and down the shaft. “But I decided I want this first. You don’t mind, do you?”
Mind? When she was doing that? “Not at all,” Prowl said, propping himself up so he could see better. The visual of her lips on him never failed to get him going, and tonight, with the jeweled comb of her veil winking in her hair as she bobbed her head and her bountiful breasts practically overflowing their flimsy cage of bridal lace every time she rocked forward between his legs, it was almost more than he could take.
Jazz could feel him trying to hold out, to make it last, but she wasn’t having it. She needed this as much as he did; something to take the edge off the urgency that had been building all day so they could enjoy the rest of the night at a more leisurely pace. She grinned in triumph at the small tremors racing along his body, and determinedly set a rhythm with her mouth and hands that she knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.
The noise he made as he surrendered, tremors giving way to full on shudders as she swallowed his climax, was incredibly satisfying.
Head still thrown back and breathing heavily, Prowl gathered the wherewithal to speak coherently again a minute later. “Are you now satisfied?”
Jazz laughed at his teasing. “I got what I wanted,” she conceded, changing positions so she was straddling his legs. “One of the things I wanted, anyway. There’s a list.”
“Is there now?” Prowl could well imagine, and he very much hoped the next thing on her list was what he thought it was. He let his elbows slide out from under him so he was no longer propped up, falling back against the bed and beckoning her forward. “I should see to it then.”
“Yes, you should. After all,” Jazz moved forward so her knees were on either side of his waist, “there’s a difference between satisfied and sated.”
“An important difference,” Prowl agreed, grabbing her legs to pull her forward. She let out a happy squeal that quickly became a gasp when he got her where he wanted her and pressed his mouth to the apex of her thighs. The lace of her panties was definitely wet now, and he could feel the heat coming off her along with her heady scent.
“Oh! What are you‒?”
Prowl didn’t give her a chance to finish. The flimsy barrier worked to his advantage as he nuzzled her, rubbing the silk against her clit. He felt as much as heard her gasp of approval, and chuckled at her frustrated huff when she tried to bear down. He tightened his grip and held her right where she was, unable to get any closer.
“Pro~wl!” She whined, curling forward and tangling her fingers in his hair in a futile attempt to make him to give her more. “No fair! I didn’t tease you!”
“Didn’t you?” But Prowl took pity on her, delicately hooking a fang on the edge of the fabric to pull it aside so he could reach her core. Soft, damp folds parted around his tongue as he thrust it upward for a taste.
“Ah!”
She was absolutely divine.
Jazz’s stocking-clad legs shook as he went to work, his lips, teeth and tongue somehow managing to be everywhere at once. Lightning shot up her spine and fire built in her belly. “Oh, god, how do you do that?!” He was waaaay too good at this! She arched back, hands leaving his hair to stroke up her own torso. Prowl started squeezing her butt, and she matched his motions on her breasts with one hand while the other kept going, caressing the pulse in her neck. Her nails were a poor substitute for his fangs. “Prowl!”
The sound of her in pleasure was music to Prowl’s ears, and he applied all of his knowledge of her body to drive her higher in the pursuit of those cries. He wasn’t disappointed. Jazz’s pleas increased in both pitch and frequency as she rocked above him, chasing the climax he was determined to give her. He hummed in approval when she tugged the lace of her bra down to let her breasts spill out and began pinching her nipples between her fingers and rewarded her with a renewed focus on her clit.
Jazz laughed, then gasped, then shouted as he responded exactly as she’d thought he would. He brought her right to the edge and she didn’t fight it, tumbling over into ecstasy with wild abandon.
Soft and relaxed in the immediate aftermath, she felt Prowl’s mouth leave her as he lifted her up and shifted them so they were laying side by side. His hand replaced hers on her breasts, squeezing and stroking gently. Jazz purred and smiled up at him. “Kiss me.”
She could taste herself on his lips.
It didn’t take long for Prowl’s kisses to become more forceful. He was hard again, his length pressed up against her where she couldn’t possibly miss it. When she slid her hand down between them and wrapped her fingers around him he rumbled deep in his chest, and Jazz felt it resonate all the way through her.
“Am I to take this as a sign you are ready to continue?” he asked, kissing his way down her neck. Her arousal was building again, surging through her with every beat of the heart beneath his hand and his was there to meet it, throbbing between his legs.
“Take the sign, take the hint, take me.” Jazz angled her chest toward him and smirked when Prowl kept going past her collarbone until he reached her breasts. “Or just get distracted, that’s fine too.”
“You say that like it is a bad thing, but I find it hard to believe you truly think it so.” He wouldn’t let himself be distracted for long, but Prowl couldn’t pass up the chance to lavish attention on one of his favorite parts of her and she knew it, the little minx! If she hadn’t wanted him to take the time to cup the perfect swells and suckle on her then she shouldn’t have thrust them at him.
Prowl considered himself fully justified when Jazz didn’t complain further.
He didn’t relent until her breathing quickened nearly to the point of panting. The nipple he’d been focusing on was bright and swollen as he left it behind, slowly kissing his way back up her chest and neck. Her hands were moving fitfully over his body, wordlessly begging him to hurry up, and she moaned eagerly when he rose up over her and positioned himself just outside of her. “Let me claim you as my wife,” he whispered in her ear.
“Claim me,” Jazz echoed, tilting her head back to further expose herself. “Make me officially yours.”
“As I, in turn, am yours.” This was a union, not a conquering ‒ or if it was, the conquest was mutual.
Jazz cried out in joy as much as pleasure when Prowl thrust into her. Sex wasn’t anything new to either of them, but this, their first time as a married couple, was a true first for both of them. This moment was purely about the two of them and their love and commitment to each other, and Jazz’s heart swelled with emotion. Other parts of her swelled too, lit up with sensation as Prowl’s cock pressed deeper before retreating, only to thrust forward again. It was a futile effort, trying to hold him inside, but the added pressure made him groan as he moved, and Jazz smiled as she rocked with him.
Keep going!
Don’t stop!
There was no sense of time passing. There was no such thing as time, just the two of them, together, moving as one in pursuit of their mutual pleasure. Untold minutes later Jazz shuddered to her second climax of the night just ahead of Prowl. The splash as he joined her had her arching up, wrapping her arms around him fiercely as they rode out the ecstasy together. He buried his face in the junction of her neck and shoulder, fangs pressing enticingly against her skin… but still he didn’t bite.
“Why?” Jazz asked as they came down, the word coming out breathy and confused as Prowl, still inside her, rolled them to their sides so he could gather her into his arms. He didn’t always bite, but it was a type of claim, and she’d made her desires on that score perfectly clear!
“Because,” Prowl said, fingers trailing over the lace clinging to her sweat-dampened skin. With her panties shoved to one side, her garter belt twisted around her waist so only one of the straps was still connected to her rumpled stockings, and her bra shoved down below her breasts, she looked thoroughly dishevelled and absolutely beautiful. “I want each claim I make,” he explained, tucking a stray lock of hair that had come loose from its clip back behind her ear, “to be unique and memorable.”
“Oh.” Jazz let him move her, intrigued by the difference from his usual approach as his hand continued down from her ear to her jaw to tilt her face up. There was still intensity in the air as he lowered his head, but in place of passion there was tenderness. His hunger, how much he wanted was there like always when his fangs brushed her skin , but there a was a deep sense of affection overlaying his possessiveness; a promise to care for her, not just use her.
“I love you,” Prowl said, voice soft with reverence. “This I swear, that I will always, always love you.”
“What a happy coincidence,” Jazz breathed, eyes sliding shut as his fangs slid home. “I’m going to love you forever too.”